


Shattered and Cracked like Broken Glass

by dl13 (How_Doth_the_Little_Crocodile)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, post playoff loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/How_Doth_the_Little_Crocodile/pseuds/dl13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losses sucked. Playoff losses sucked worse. Crashing out was a level of suck that was a little hard to cope with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered and Cracked like Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was written in under an hour and read over by Savanna (savannamae17), who also came up with the title. If it sucks, I apologize. I just had a little bit of heartbreak over the Habs getting bounced from the playoffs.
> 
> Title is from "Car Crash Heart" by Tyler Ward

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the reflection of the faucet in the mirror and he didn’t want to know. He’d been angry earlier (God, had he been angry earlier. He might have actually broken his phone when he threw it but he hadn’t bothered to retrieve it to check) but now he was just…. dead.

He swore under his breath in Russian and turned on the water, splashing water on his face and reaching for his razor and shaving cream. He heard a noise behind him in his still-dark room and he spun around, finding big blue eyes looking back at him.

“Your mom let me in,” Brendan said by way of explanation. “She and your sister were on their way out. Your sister said that you… that you don’t take disappointment well.”

“So what the hell are you doing here? Afraid I’m gonna slit my wrists with my razor?” he snapped back. Brendan just cocked his head at him.

“I didn’t want to be alone and I figured you might not either. Your family doesn’t get it but I was out on that ice with you, I lost that damn game with you. I get it.” He reached out a hand tentatively but Alex didn’t move to stop him so he put it on his shoulder. “And I’m here if you want me.”

Alex shrugged off his hand after a few seconds and turned back to the sink, jerking his chin at his reflection. “I just want this thing gone.” Brendan nodded and stepped into the lit bathroom. Alex could see the older rookie watching him in the mirror but did his best to ignore it. He went to wet his razor and realized his hand was shaking. He lifted it to his face anyway but the shaking worsened. Dropping the razor on the counter, he made a fist several times, trying to flex the jitters out. It was just as bad, if not worse, when he picked it up again. He let out a noise, halfway between irritated and wounded, and caught Brendan’s eye in the mirror. “I… I can’t. Can you…” He couldn’t finish the sentence but he didn’t have to. Brendan stepped up to him, taking the razor from him and leaned onto the counter to grab a towel from the rack on the wall, pressing his chest to Alex’s back as he did so. Alex shuddered but hoped that Brendan would write it off as more of the shaking that plagued his hand. He didn’t say anything, just took Alex gently by the shoulders and pushed him toward the toilet so that he could sit on the lid. Alex sat heavily and Brendan laid the towel on his lap.

“C’mere,” Brendan said softly, taking Alex gently by the chin and tilting his head to the side so that he could begin. They sat in silence, the only sound the slight scrape of the razor over skin. When he was done, he grabbed the towel and held it towards Alex for a moment. Alex just looked back at him and Brendan nodded slightly and tugged Alex to his feet, muscling him back towards the sink. Brendan wet a section of the towel and wiped the younger boy’s face clean, toweling it dry with the other end. Alex turned back toward the mirror, shaking arms holding him braced up on the counter.

“Do you want me to leave?” Brendan asked. Alex shrugged. Brendan nodded but took a step closer, putting a hand on Alex’s hip. Alex jumped a little but didn’t move his hand away and didn’t say anything so Brendan left it. They stood there for a few more moments before Brendan seemed to make a decision and put his other hand on Alex’s other hip. Alex tensed up for a moment before relaxing back into Brendan’s chest. Brendan hooked his chin over Alex’s shoulder and murmured, “You played so fucking well, Chuckie.”

“Don’t call me that,” was Alex’s mumbled reply but there was no heart in it. “And we still lost.” Brendan’s lips brushed Alex’s cheek but he wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or if it even counted as a kiss so he didn’t say anything, didn’t let his breath hitch, didn’t give any indication he’d felt it.

“You can’t win the game all by yourself. _We_ sucked, not you. _We_ let everyone down. Not you. You made your parents proud, made your sister proud…. made _me_ proud.” Alex turned his head at that, making eye contact with Brendan.

“I made you proud?” he asked, voice small and accent thick.

“You always make me proud,” was the equally soft response. Alex made a noise and suddenly they were kissing over Alex’s shoulder. Alex hadn’t kissed many people and even fewer guys than girls (and Nail didn’t count, ok? Nail was Nail) so he didn’t have much frame of reference but he thought that Brendan was a good kisser. When Brendan pressed him up against the wall and plastered himself to Alex’s chest, Alex thought that Brendan might just be a great kisser.

Eventually, Brendan pulled away, their mouths disconnecting with a slick click. “C’mon,” he said softly, tugging on Alex’s hand until he followed the older boy into his dark bedroom.

“Are we…” he began but trailed off, stopping short of his bed.

“We’re going to bed,” Brendan told him, smile visible even in the murky darkness. “To sleep,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Alex said, feeling a little silly and maybe a bit disappointed. Brendan reached out and ran a hand over Alex’s now-smooth cheek.

“Go get ready,” he said. “Do you want me to get the bathroom light?” Alex shook his head and told him, “Leave it for now. I want to… leave it.” Brendan just nodded, stripping off his sweatshirt and shoes and jeans (he had apparently gone home and changed before coming over) until he was in his shirt and boxers. Alex was wearing the same and climbed onto his bed, holding out a hand to Brendan, telling him that he was very welcome to join him in case that was ever a question. Brendan laid down, pulling the covers up to his chest. Alex joined him, laying on his side and looking straight at Brendan, light from the bathroom showing his face in a strange contrast of light and dark. He bit his lip, suddenly unsure, but none of this felt real so it was easier than it normally would be to scoot closer and tuck his face into the place where Brendan’s neck met his shoulder. Brendan’s arm came up instantly, wrapping around Alex’s waist and tugging him closer.

“Good night, Gally,” Alex said quietly and Brendan’s thumb brushed gently against his spine.

“Good night, Gally,” Brendan replied.

**Author's Note:**

> So that happened. Leave a comment, come converse with me on Tumblr, tell me it sucked, whatever floats your boat.


End file.
